


Love Will Remember

by phangirlingforphan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reality, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25399765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phangirlingforphan/pseuds/phangirlingforphan
Summary: They broke up - one left, one stayed, one thrived and one didn’t. Now, it’s been five years and a tragedy has forced them into each other’s lives again and they have to learn to face what happened back then and what’s happening now.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the end notes for clarification if you've read the summary and thought - hey, I think I've seen this before.

His flight to London Heathrow gets in at half past 2 in the afternoon. He keeps his cap low and his sunglasses on. 

He spies a phone camera aimed at him maybe once; a young girl, a fan maybe. She won’t be a nuisance, he’s certain. She’s curious, naive and young enough to think taking photos of someone in public is an acceptable thing to do. She’s not to dwell on.

The airport is busy and full of holidaymakers rushing to catch a glimpse of sunshine before the summer curtains close. It’s a relief, actually. Nobody cares about anybody else when you’re in a rush. Gates are opening and closing over the tannoy, his flight number has been called to announce bags are ready to collect and whilst he wouldn’t consider himself an expert, he’s gotten used to spotting people who recognise him and if the young girl is the only one then his attempt at feigning being inconspicuous has succeeded.

London is outside these white panelled walls in all it’s grey misery. He wears his darkest clothes for the occasion; it’s a goodbye to the sunshine over the ocean and a rueful hello to the iron-cast skies he’s about to step back under.

He told himself he’d never do this again. 

Everyone anticipated him returning at some point. Nobody expected him to up and go, but everyone expected him to come back. 

Five years ago he made a promise that he never would. 

* * *

There’s someone waiting for him when he gets past baggage claim. 

They’re male, tall, fair-haired with lips split into a tight smile. He's wearing black, too. Misery breeds in London. 

They don’t hug or shake hands, they just start walking.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you any time soon,” they say. “It's been what? Five years? You're permenantly tanned now. It's weird."

He doesn’t get an answer but he doesn't challenge it, either. They walk in silence to the car park and the awaiting Land Rover he’s been picked up in.

The fair-haired man goes to haul his friend’s suitcase into the boot of the car. He looks puzzled, and then rolls his eyes. 

“I take it this is a brief visit?” he asks. “What exactly did you pack? Feathers? Or has L.A made you one of those minimalist types who only owns one pair of shoes?"

“Chris,” the other man starts to say. He pauses, one hand clenched over the top of the car door. “I don’t want to be here for any longer than I need to be. You know that and you know why. Can we not fucking go into detail and just leave, please? Any extra seconds spent here is a second too long.”

Chris watches him silently as he clambers into the front seat. The sunglasses stay on but the cap comes off. His curls are shorter now, Chris notices, uniform, like they've lost some life.

Chris holds back a sigh and slams the boot shut. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Dan.” 


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a reunion, a chat, and a realisation of things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the response to the prologue! I hope you enjoy Chapter One!

Chris lives in Brighton now. Dan didn’t know that. Chris has a girlfriend, a dog and a baby on the way. Dan didn’t know that, either.

“I did text you about the baby,” Chris says. 

“I don’t reply a lot, you know that.”

“I don’t feel like I know a lot about you at all anymore actually, Dan, but that’s okay, because you have a life you keep private and I respect that.”   


The way Chris says it, Dan doubts he means it.

They’re sat on the sofa in Chris’ house: French doors thrown open, the sea sparkling in the distance ahead of them and strong black coffees in hand.

Chris’ girlfriend Kayla has left them to it, she muttered something about needing groceries but Dan figures it’s that she doesn’t want to interfere on the awkwardness that there was inevitably going to be between him and Chris.

“It has been five years, hasn’t it?” Chris asks. “Since you went to L.A?”

“Flight 014, 11am, May 17th 2020,” he says automatically. Chris raises an eyebrow. “I think.”

“You seem to be doing well for yourself, still doing YouTube, CEO of an LGBT charity, a little bit of modelling and TV presenting here and there,” he lists off. “It’s good, Dan. I’m happy for you. Genuinely.”

“Thanks,” Dan replies. “You seem good, too?” 

“It’s a little sad you have to say that as a question,” Chris says wryly. “But yes, I am good, thank you. We’re happy. I have acting jobs often, a couple of shows in production, won another Buffer fest award last year and now a baby is coming. It’s mad. I officially feel like an adult at 37.”

“I’m 33 and not quite there yet,”   


“PJ was 34 and I don’t think he felt like an adult, come to think of it,”

And there it is. PJ.

-

_ Dan was in a meeting when his phone rang. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for someone to call him during the day, especially when he was in the middle of something, but it was definitely out of the ordinary for Chris Kendall’s name to be the one flashing at him. _

_ He remembers excusing himself and leaving the office, pelting down the stairs and going outside. Some people get a gut feeling that something is wrong, someone you care about is in danger and you get a knot in your stomach. Dan had that the second he saw the call.  _

_ “Chris?” he’d said quickly. “Something’s happened hasn’t it? To Phil. Is he okay? Has he had an acc-” _

_ “Dan, it’s about PJ,” Chris said, voice scratchy. The knot undid slightly. “He’s dead.”  _

_ Dan recalls seeing his breakfast again, he remembers stumbling, holding onto the wall for support and the world tilting. Someone had grabbed his arm, it had been his assistant Jeffrey, pried the phone from his hand and spoken to Chris to tell him Dan would call him back. _

_ He’d been driven home. Jefferey had cleared his schedule for a week and booked him a same day, first-class flight to London within twenty minutes of the phone call. They deserved a raise, Dan had decided. _

_ - _

Not even twenty-four hours later, here he is, sitting on the sofa of a friend he’s intentionally blanked for years, merely acquaintances now, discussing how much life has changed and how little they’re in each other’s now. 

“No,” Dan says quietly. “I guess he wasn’t.”

“Who dies of a heart attack at 34?”

Dan isn’t sure if Chris expects an answer to that. He knows the answer is probably more than he’d think, but that hardly makes it acceptable. PJ had just gotten married, he was writing a film, he was directing, he was excelling at every creative opportunity put in front of him and he was only in his thirties.

Dan sniffs, surprising himself and apparently Chris who looks at him with suddenly concerned eyes. 

“I was about to launch into some bullshit spiel about how I should have done this, I should have done that, I should have called more, I should have tried harder, but what the fuck does it matter?” Dan says and shrugs. “He’s gone. I fucked it but it isn’t about me, or you, or anyone else. It just is.” He hastily wipes at his eyes and clears his throat. “I don’t think you ever come to terms with any of it.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Chris says, and with a half-smile they clink together their coffee mugs in a mock tribute to one of their oldest friends. 

“To PJ,” Dan says.

“To PJ.”

-

They sit in silence for a while. Dan’s mind is an eventful place and he appreciates the chance to contemplate and relax without the need for chatter or small talk.

As he listens to the far away noise of the sea foam lapping against the sand, the cry of gulls in the sky and smells the faint saltiness of seaside life he realises L.A could never match this. Not really, anyway.

L.A. is showy and a little fake. It’s misconstrued as being a place where people only go to become famous; it’s so much more, but at the same time it still doesn’t feel like enough.

The beaches stretch for miles, the sunsets will take anybody’s breath away and if you want takeout at four in the morning you can get it with no arguments. It doesn’t make L.A superior or better than England by any means, but in L.A nobody cares about you, there are the vapid individuals, sure, and the amount of drug crime and shootings will vex you incessantly, yet it’s still enthralling in all it’s phoney, Hollywood way. You will always fit in somewhere in L.A and Dan’s Malibu apartment is exactly the right spot for him. Expensive, of course, but gorgeous and somewhere he’s proud to have ended up in? Absolutely.

London felt glorious for a long while. The charm of England rubs off on any tourist who visits, however when that charm is tarnished by events that take place and feelings that you’ll always associate with certain places and people who live there, you realise you’d rather be anywhere else in the world but there.

He left because of those feelings. He went to L.A and never looked back. He had a new life, new ideas and the promise of solitude as he figured out precisely what he was doing. He rented a handkerchief-sized apartment for awhile; it overlooked the Hollywood sign and smelled faintly of cannabis but it was ideal for a dude who didn’t know what his life would be right now. Anthony Padilla had offered his spare bedroom, but Anthony had a family, a wife and a two-year old, and it felt like a comfort blanket. He had to do this by himself or he was never going to do it.

Dan guesses he must have looked deeply pensive at that moment, as Chris’ voice startles him out of his reverie.

“Penny for your thoughts? Or a nickel, I guess you’re basically American now?” 

Dan chuckled. “It’s okay, I do remember British currency,” he says. “I was just thinking about the sea. Sorry, that’s probably a bit lame.”

“Doesn’t match up to big ole’ Los Angeles I presume?” 

“No,” Dan shakes his head and considers. “It’s...nicer,”

“How is L.A? Is it everything you hoped?”

Dan doesn’t know the answer to that question. He exhales noisily and drums his fingers on his knee. “I don’t know, is that bad?”

Chris shrugs. “Not bad, maybe a little unfulfilling?” he remarks. “Don’t people go there to chase the American Dream or whatever Gatsby-inspired shit they all talk about in the novels?”

“I didn’t really go there for that,”

“Why did you go there then? You could have picked anywhere,” Chris asks.

“It was far enough away that if I needed to come home I could relatively easily, but still so far that it would take me over ten hours. I didn’t imagine that becoming something I actually appreciated. I didn’t, erm, well, think I’d be back just yet, but as if I wouldn’t come back for this."

Chris watches Dan carefully. When he first met Dan he’d been this shy, lanky kid who had hopes and dreams he seemed too scared to approach. He blossomed, bloomed, flourished and all of the above and surprised everybody with how easily it came to him. Behind the dark clothes, self-deprecating humour and awkward limbs was a charismatic, funny guy who could make you laugh so hard you cry and cry so much you wish you were laughing all in the same video.

This guy in his lounge now, he’s still the same person, perhaps slightly bruised by life. He still has the dark clothes; Chris notices he’s sporting a jumper with a Givenchy logo emblazoned on the back, the skinny jeans are the same as he remembers, but the person wearing them is sad, maybe. The curls have been cut short, his eyes are tired, even after two coffees and some expensive looking gold gel eye patches he’d gotten out at one point. Dan is rich, obviously, and handsome, still strong jawed but soft, but he’s sad. Definitely sad. And not just because of PJ.

“I hate to say it Dan,” Chris begins cautiously, and by the way Dan stiffens slightly he knows it’s going to be a subject he doesn’t want to broach. 

Dan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knew this was coming. 

“But, have you spoken to Phil, yet?”

Dan feels himself squirm a little and pushes a hand through his hair. “Would you? If you were me?”

“I can’t answer that. I don’t know him like you do," he says plainly. 

Chris’ answer hurts in a way he didn’t expect. Does he know Phil anymore? Realistically?

“I don’t know Phil, Chris, I don’t know a single thing about him. I don’t know where he lives, I don’t know if he’s single or engaged or married or whatever else. I don’t know if he still does YouTube, I don’t know if he still has his coffee with two sugars, or,” Dan sighs loudly, cutting his ramble off. 

His eyes hurt and his throat has that familiar emotion-fuelled lump in it. He’s too tired to talk about this, jet lag is going to be a bitch, he’s miserable, one of his best friends has just died, he has to reunite with people he knowingly has been blatantly rude to and ignored for the last five years and now Chris is quizzing him on someone he always considered the love of his life.

“I don’t know him, Chris,” he says slowly.“So you tell me, if you were me and the last thing you said to him was that you’d leave him alone for the rest of his life, fall out of love with him and pretend you don’t know he exists anymore - would you be quick to call him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed - they keep me going for sure. Thank you for reading! Lily.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you have been reading my work for a few years, this is a somewhat rewrite of a story I once had previously titled 'Somebody Told Me You Loved Me Again'. I want to stress that I wrote that a long time ago and my ideas have changed, but the premise remains quite similar. This a reality story, set in the future, I have included people we all know and love but there will be some new characters that are the figment of my imagination along the way.
> 
> I want this story to feel as realistic and honest as it can be. I have had this whole thing planned out for years but never felt my skills were refined enough to do it justice. Whilst I don't quite know if I'm there yet, if I don't write it now I never will.
> 
> This will be slow burn, there will be explicit language, there will be warnings at every chapter and this won't be quick. 
> 
> I hope the prologue excites you or intrigues you to some degree and I hope you stay to follow along!
> 
> As always, kudos and follows are appreciated. I have a Tumblr of the same username if you want to follow there, too, and thank you for reading this if you have.
> 
> Lily.


End file.
